


Operation Crucible

by Sda209



Series: Soul Resonance [1]
Category: Soul Eater, Soul Eater Not!
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conspiracy, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Government Conspiracy, Language, Major Original Character(s), Mystery, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), POV Alternating, POV Canon Character, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Suggestive Themes, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Terrorism, Terrorists, Thriller, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-18 11:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sda209/pseuds/Sda209
Summary: Sid wants to forget the atrocities he and DWMA committed all those years ago, but the consequences of their crimes return to haunt them: in the form of his late best friend's daughter, and a plot to expose the academy and its allies.





	1. Past Sins

" _Suppressing fire,_ now _! Hawkins, get your men advancing on the right flank and pick them off; I'll draw their attention! Now move, on the double!"_

" _Sir, yes sir!"_

_The SAWs crackled furiously as Sid leaped over the rubble and dashed through the flurry of purple bolts and crimson tracers, his skin practically tingling for each projectile that whizzed by his ears. A bolt struck his side and ricocheted away in sparks of electric yellow, Sid's hand instinctively reaching for the hurting area. He leaped towards the alleyway between two ruined houses on the right and slammed his back against the brick wall, peeking over the corner. Multiple Witch Guards, armored in their outdated Renaissance plate and mail, took cover behind piles of rubble and overturned carriages firing back flurries of purple bolts with their outdated and recoilless rifle-styled muskets._

_The rubbles and carriages began shivering as plumes of dust and splinters exploded all over them. A few guardswomen collapsed while the rest forced their heads down and the torrents of bolts stopped. Sid dashed out of the alleyway and leaped into the witches' cover, unsheathing Nygus' knife form from her sheath. He pounced on one guardswoman and thrust Nygus deep into her jugular and turned to charge into the next guardswoman. She pointed the bayonet of her rifled musket at Sid, but multiple holes popped all over her body and she collapsed into a crumpled heap. Several Marines popped out of the ruined courtyard and opened fire upon the exposed guardswomen; many were cut down and torn apart by hundreds of bullets._

_As the last guardswoman fell on the ground, groaning hoarsely as she rolled around and clamped on her bleeding stomach and chest, Sid waved over the Marines across the street and they advanced forward, checking and covering their flanks. Sid saw a few more of the bodies moving and furrowed his brows as Nygus transformed back into human form and stood next to him._

_A few of the approaching Marines went over to the surviving guardswomen and checked on them. "We got a few survivors here, Lieutenant-Colonel," one of the Marines soon said to Sid. "Some of them are badly injured, though. Should we treat them here until evac arrives? We have orders to gun down every witch we see, but…"_

_Sid glanced at the groaning guardswoman: her breaths were hoarse and there was blood soaking her hands and arms through her plate mail and gambeson; there was fear in her eyes as she stared at Sid and Nygus as if they were her judges and executioners._

_Nygus turned to Sid, her expression grim, and whispered to him. "We're supposed to leave none alive, aren't we?"_

" _That's what Lord Death said himself, Mira," Sid nodded at her, his expression matching hers. "Orders are orders, I suppose."_

" _Sid, I hope you realize that what we're supposed to do to these witches is a direct violation of the Geneva Conventions. Even if these sons of bitches are psychopathic killers, that doesn't mean we should stoop down to their level."_

" _I never said I was the kind of man to blindly follow orders, Mira. That said, witches are dangerous and I don't want to risk the lives of our men to keep even one witch prisoner of war."_

_Mira frowned. "Still, something's been bugging me; ever since we started the operation, I was expecting complete and total resistance from the entire city's population. So far, only the Witch Guards have put any kind of meaningful and organized resistance; anyone else whom we've encountered ran from us, almost like they were civilians."_

" _Are you implying that many of those witches were innocents?" Sid crossed his arms and gazed intently at her._

" _Not in the sense that you're thinking of, but I still can't shake off this feeling of…_ wrongness.  _I know you feel it too, Sid, I've been sensing it through your wavelengths."_

_Sid remained silent._

_The Marine anxiously exchanged glances between the both of them. "Um, Lieutenant-Colonel, Major? Maybe we can report this to command and see if we can't request an exception for these witches–"_

" _That won't be necessary, Sergeant-Major."_

_Sid, Nygus, and the senior Marine NCO all turned to see a black-haired and grizzled Japanese woman slinging a giant black scythe over her shoulder. The scythe transformed into a red-haired American man and stood behind her as a convoy of Marine IFVs, AFVs, and tanks rolled through the courtyard._

" _Sid, Mira, it's a pleasure seeing you two alive and well." Kami nodded at them both; Spirit shot a single wave at Sid and he waved back. As for his Meister, upon sight of the downed woman, Kami turned her nose up at her with a scoff and threw a kick at her stomach._

_The guardswoman gasped hoarsely and coughed up blood; she weakly gazed at Kami, eyes tearing up. "P-Please… I-I don't want to die," she choked out._

" _Shut up, you sniveling wench," Kami spat, disgusted by the guardswoman's pleas. "Cry and beg for your life all you want, but as long as even a single one of your kind lives you'll just come back and murder more people. I'm not going to let_ any _witch escape justice, even if it kills me."_

_The guardswoman's eyes were wide with terror._

_Kami turned to the senior NCO. "Sergeant-Major, we have orders from Lord Death himself to leave_ no _survivors. Do not give these wastes of skin any quarter. Kill them all."_

" _Hey, who the hell made you_ my _CO?" the Sergeant-Major growled. "I only take orders from Lieutenant-Colonel Barrett and Major Nygus."_

" _Then Lieutenant-Colonel Barrett and Major Nygus will hopefully give the order to you and the rest of your men." Kami scoffed, muttering, "incompetent buffon."_

_The Sergeant-Major scowled at Kami, muttering to himself, "bitch."_

" _With all due respect, Kami," Sid said, narrowing his eyes at her, "I'm not the kind of man to violate previously established codes of honor. What we're ordered to do is a direct violation of the first Geneva Convention; I hope you realize that."_

_Kami glared at him. "Are you implying that you've slept through the goddamn briefing? The rules of warfare don't apply to these sorry excuses of a people!"_

" _No," Sid shook his head. "It's something that I want to bring up, being a former Marine myself. Well, actually," he looked at the various Marines staring at them, whose shadows loomed over the still-breathing witch guardswomen, "technically I've been reinstated as a Marine officer, but that's besides the point."_

_Kami scoffed, smirking at him. "So you're just gonna keep these bastards alive and betray the Grim Reaper's word?"_

" _...If Lord Death himself ordered this, then as a soldier I will trust in his word and follow his orders."_

" _Good." Kami's smirk turned into a smile. "For a second there, I thought you were starting to become soft for the witches."_

_Nygus sighed as Sid turned to the Sergeant-Major, expression neutral. "You heard the lady; kill them all."_

" _Lieutenant-Colonel," he stared at Sid, eyes wide in disbelief, "this is almost tantamount to the Nazis' treatment of Soviet POWs–"_

" _The Geneva Conventions don't apply to witches, Sergeant-Major. I'm giving you an_ order _."_

_He hesitated, then cursed under his breath. The Sergeant-Major turned to the Marines and screamed, "We shoot the witches! Leave no survivors!"_

_The Marines had their guns trained, but they exchanged confused and anxious glances between each other as panic roused the surviving Witch Guards. Sid stared at the downed guardswoman as she slowly shook her head in disbelief, the fear growing more and more in her teary eyes: no, they said, please, don't do this; I don't want to die. Sid almost frowned at her―a strange and dull pain knotting in the pit of his stomach―and forced himself to look away._

" _Sir," one of the Marines stared at his senior NCO, "are you_ sure _about this? I know Colonel Albarn has just briefed all of us on this, but…"_

" _Orders from the Grim Reaper himself, Mills!" the Sergeant-Major barked. "Kill them! Kill all the witches!"  
The Marines hesitated to pull the triggers._

 _Kami scoffed and screamed, "_ Idiots _! I'll personally have you all court-martialed and dishonorably discharged for insubordination―do you_ all _understand me?!"_

_Sid, Nygus, and Spirit looked away as the screams of the guardswomen were drowned out by M16 reports–_

* * *

Sid woke from his bed, gasping for air and sweating in his shorts and tank-top. He looked around his spartan bedroom as he brought his breathing into a slow rhythm and calmed down. Nothing. There was nothing out of the place or out of the ordinary as far as he could tell. Sid sighed; just another nightmare.

Still, the nightmares were all too real.

Looking at the alarm clock that stood on a nearby drawer, Sid saw that the current time was 7:02 AM. He rose from his bed, drinking a half-opened bottle of water that had stood at his drawer, and brushed his teeth and showered in his bathroom. After drying himself out and dressing up in his professor's clothes, Sid went to the kitchen of his living room apartment and began cooking breakfast. He turned on the living room TV to the local news.

"...Today's weather forecast in sunny Death City is 77 degrees Fahrenheit in the morning and will rise up to about 90-100 degrees later in the afternoon. No showers for the foreseeable future today, although there have been rain clouds spotted…"

Just the same old, same old.

Soon he ate breakfast, performed his morning warm-up, and gathered his belongings. Afterward, Sid checked his journal, which had been stored away in his messenger bag on the table, and looked over the written calendar: Fri March 4th, 2011; attend Enrollment Committee Meeting today at 8:30 AM. Sid checked his watch: it was currently 7:42 AM. A sigh. Yep, another day of meetings and bureaucratic work ahead of him. And it was already the fourth day of the break month. Ah well, he was never was the kind of man to openly complain about his work―that, and all these meetings should get wrapped up by next week anyway like they always do.

At least today was quiet. Sid paused, then curiously glanced around his apartment and marveled at the silence he all had to himself. Black Star's really was living in his own place now. Mornings always had Sid being forced to wake up the kid early and get him into the morning warm-up routine; and now, it was just Sid himself. This must have been how his parents had felt when Sid went away to join the US Marines all those years ago. He even went to where Black Star's room was and checked inside, seeing nothing but a bare and cold room with one window, its blinds closed and only allowing the sunlight to wink through, off to the right.

"It sure is going to be quiet around here from now on," Sid murmured. "And the kid's only fifteen. Heh, makes me wish I had my own place when I was his age."

Oh well, it's not like Black Star moved to the other side of the US. Hell, Sid himself was still going to keep on seeing the kid at DWMA every day when it starts back up again a month from now. Hopefully, Black Star at least did his morning routines and workouts on his own.

Sid turned off all the lights and electronics in his apartment before taking his messenger bag cell phone to leave. Locking the door behind him―and checked the doorknob to be sure it wouldn't open―Sid descended from the third floor to the ground floor of the apartment complex and found himself stepping out into sunny Death City. He smelled the dry, desert and urban air that was wafting throughout the street as the occasional car drove by and the frequent pedestrians began crowded the sidewalks.

Well, since he was heading to DWMA anyway, it was a good time as any for a jog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this fic takes place around a similar time frame to the Soul Eater NOT! spinoff, and while it takes some of the core plot ideas from the spinoff this fic ultimately stands on its own continuity. In fact, the setting behind Operation Crucible is a complete AU reimagining of the original Soul Eater canon, one that will be extensively used for the main series that will be coming along in the future; Operation Crucible is, by all accounts, a prequel fic to that series. Think of this fic as a much better Soul Eater NOT! of the AU reimagining series.
> 
> With that said, I hope that you've enjoyed reading Chapter 1 of Operation Crucible. Until Chapter 2 comes along, fare thee well!
> 
> -Sda.


	2. Chavette

Lavinia shoved the arsehole back and leaped backward. He stumbled over his feet, but he managed to regain his footing and glared at her. The crowd of students, whose numbers were not insubstantial, roared with cheers and cries for blood.

"What's the matter,  _love_?" the arsehole spat with a smirk, bare fists raised. "Scared to fight a  _real_  man?"

Lavinia rolled her eyes and waved her hand off. "Oi, look, this bullshit ain't worth my time or yours. Why don't we just agree to walk away from this and forget this ever 'appened?"

"You're mad if you think I'm gonna let ya' get away with bumping into me, arsehole!" he screamed and charged towards Lavinia.

"Oh shite–"

The arsehole crashed into Lavinia and the both of them tumbled onto the ground, forcing part of the crowd to back away. He straddled on top of her and slammed a fist right into her cheek, then another. Upon the third swing, Lavinia snatched the arsehole's fist with her right hand and struck the middle of his chest with the other, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for air as Lavinia pulled him up along with her and she slammed his cheek right into her knee. Then Lavinia threw him away and he stumbled into the nearby wall, crashing onto it.

Lavinia spat out the blood that had bled from her mouth. "And that's what ya' get for wastin' me time and yours! Now can we cut this shite out 'fore Mr Hardarse comes around to knock off  _both_  of our arses?"

"Y-You damn  _chav_ ," the arsehole growled as he struggled to sit upright. "Oh, you're gonna regret that. I don't care if you're taller than a stepladder, I'll damn well make  _sure_  a slag like you pays for that!"

"Oh god," Lavinia groaned, shaking her head. "Just give it up already! I ain't lookin' for trouble and never was, but  _clearly_  ya' just somehow found some asinine reason to–"

" _Alright, break it up, the lot of you! Break it up!_ "

Lavinia cursed under her breath as she turned to see the crowd quickly dissipating away, letting the grizzled teacher stride towards her and the arsehole. Cursing profusely, Mr Hardarse helped up the arsehole up to his feet before glaring at both of them―particularly at Lavinia.

"For the love of god,  _another_  fight?!" Mr Hardarse shook his head. "You children never learn, do you?"

" _He_  started it!" Lavinia pointed at the arsehole. "I was just mindin'  _my_  own business, it was self-defense!"

Rubbing his bleeding nose, the arsehole growled, "Go to hell, you chav!"

"Mr Cox, I will  _not_  tolerate language like that in our school!" Then Mr Hardarse turned to Lavinia, equally as stern. "And you, Ms Von Auttenberg, perhaps this time it  _was_  a case of self-defense, but I am  _not_  ignoring the four other previous times in which you  _had_  started the fight. You two are coming with me to the school nurse's office right this instant; Headmaster Williams is going to want to have a stern word with the  _both_  of you lot!"

Once more, as she and that Cox cunt or whatever the hell his name was, Lavinia cursed under her breath, just quietly enough that Mr Hardarse didn't hear her. God, not again.

* * *

Mr Hardarse―or Mr Hardy, as Lavinia ought to start referring to him from now on just so she doesn't end up slipping her words and dig herself a deeper hole―took Lavinia and the arsehole to the school nurse's office, where the school nurse prepared the necessary treatments. Lavinia pressed the ice pack on her bruised cheek, her canker sore still stinging from gargling salt water, while Cox lied down on one of the cots, nose bandaged and covered with an ice pack of its own. Both heard the office door opening and they spotted the jacketless dark-blue suit of Headmaster Williams.

The headmaster stepped into the office and looked at both Lavinia and Cox; Lavinia immediately looked away from his judging eyes, her mouth slightly clenched tight. Come on, just get this over with so she can go home and forget this ever happened.

"Mr Hardy," Headmaster Williams said to him with a nod, "thank you for watching these two right here."

"You're welcome. Should I stay here and help you sort them out?"

"That won't be necessary, Mr Hardy," Headmaster Williams shook his head. "I only need you and Mrs Dawson to step out for the moment so I can speak to both students on their terms."

Mr Hardy nodded once, then he, along with the school nurse, left the school nurse's office. Only Lavinia, the arsehole, and Headmaster Williams were present inside now, and the cold rumbling of the air conditioner seemed a lot more enticing now.

The headmaster first turned to the arsehole, thankfully enough. "Mr Cox, I found your actions earlier today to be inappropriate and unbefitting for a man of your stature. Surely you can act better than that, can you not?"

"I don't like it when people cross me, headmaster."

He raised his eyebrow. "What does it matter when the offence itself is petty? M Cox, I'm afraid I'm going to have to have a word with your parents about this tomorrow, and I can't imagine they will be all too pleased to hear that their son is getting himself into some hooligan business again."

" _Ugh_ ," Cox groaned, pressing his head against the pillow, "please headmaster, don't do this; my parents are gonna pull me out from football if they heard about this!"

"I am terribly sorry, Mr Cox," Headmaster Williams shook his head, "but I am not going to abide by this breach of conduct at Watkins School. That is all I have to speak to you."

Well, at least the arsehole had it coming. Lavinia would have chuckled a bit if it weren't for the stern gaze that she felt from the headmaster.

The headmaster shook his head, sighing. "Ms Von Auttenberg, this is the  _fifth_  fight you've gotten yourself into this year. This is getting old. I cannot let you get into more fights with the other students like this, not when you're such a promising student."

" _Headmaster_ , I was just  _defending_  myself; that  _arsehole_  over started it because of–!"

Cox barked, "The  _hell_  did you just call me?"

"Young sir," Headmaster Williams turned to him with a stern look, "not a  _single_  word from you anymore. And you, young lady," he turned back to Lavinia, who shrunk yet again from the stern look, "you do not speak in such an inflammatory way to your fellow students. Do you understand me?"

"...Yeah, s-sorry," Lavinia stuttered quietly. "A-As I just said, I was  _defending_  myself, headmaster."

"That may be so this time, but then what about the other times where you  _weren't_?"

Lavinia glanced at the headmaster. "Alright, maybe I started  _one_  of those fights, but that bi–  _girl_  'ad it comin' to her."

"And does responding to rude insinuations and impolite conduct call for use of physical violence to settle such matters?"

"...It shouldn't."

"And yet that's how you responded in those last five fights―with  _physical violence_."

Headmaster Williams sighed and rubbed his temples. "Ms. Von Auttenberg, your marks are remarkable compared to many of your peers; it's that it's a truly a shame to see such academic talent still wasted on petty fights and mischief-making. We allowed you to transfer from your neighborhood school to here in Watkins School because I saw potential in you, potential that could be tapped given the right teachers and education. I would be loathed to expel a student of your standing from this school, especially when you've made considerable progress since your first day here."

"...Yeah, I suppose. But I grew up with the wrong crowd back there, and old habits die hard as the sayin' goes."

"And yet, you've demonstrated that you can indeed grow out of your hooliganism; you just need to keep on improving yourself and stop getting into fights."

Lavinia scoffed. "If I can get some of the people to stop callin' me 'chav' or whatever shite they're spoutin' out, it'll help a lot."

"Yes," the headmaster nodded at her, "I am well aware of some of the conduct our… less agreeable students perform, but it is still also your responsibility to control your reaction to their insinuations."

"I 'ear ya'..."

"And it also might help if you keep practicing your H's more often; I'm not one to deny one's cultural heritage, but still it doesn't help dissuade the loutish perception some of your peers may have of you."

"God," Lavinia rolled her eyes, "let them think whatever the 'eck they want. 'Sides, ain't like I never been a chav before."

The headmaster pursed his lips, then nodded once. "I think that concludes our talk then, Ms Von Auttenberg. I am going to let you go this time, but remember this: if I hear word of another fight, one that you actually started, then rest be assured that I will personally carry out further disciplinary action to mold you into the proper young lady you should be. And if not, well, I hope the next head teacher might be more understanding of your plight."

Lavinia swallowed, nodding slowly at him. "Yes, Headmaster Williams. I'll try not to get into another fight again."

"Then that will be all, Ms Von Auttenberg. Have a good day."

"Yeah, you too as well."

And so Lavinia vacated the school nurse's office, book bag in hand, and quickly strode down the hallway, away from Mrs Dawson and Mr Hardy, who were currently standing near the office door, without so much as a word. Damn it Lavinia, not again. Another fight, and this time you should've gotten suspended or something; she was just lucky the headmaster was this tolerant of her shite. Still, Lavinia wasn't going to look at a gift horse in the mouth, so she made her departure out of Watkins School as swift as she can so as to have little interaction with other people as possible.

Lavinia kept her head down as she traveled through the school, not sparing any glance at any of the students she had passed by, and headed for the door.

* * *

When she finally stepped out from the front entrance of the school, Lavinia looked around the car park and only saw people talking and chatting with each other. No sign of Maria, as far as she can tell―but she knew she was hiding somewhere in the car park. Lavinia shut her eyes, breathing in and out through her nose slowly, then opened them again. Clear, multi-colored orbs burned brightly within the chests of every student Lavinia saw, their presences unfamiliar and foreign as always. Gazing at the car park, there were several more orbs that were spread out―and only one stood out.

There she was, her pink soul burning with a familiar warmth, hiding behind a fancy red car giggling to herself. Lavinia smirked to herself and, keeping her head down, strode towards the general vicinity of the red car. Maria's presence was the lone beacon amidst this cold and foreign sea of souls, something that which Lavinia appreciated. She still remained at the red car, continuing to look on the other side, while Lavinia flanked her from the other.

With the blink of her eyes, Lavinia turned off her soul sight and strode round to the rear of the red car, where Maria was leaning at the front of it. She tucked away one of her silver bangs behind her ear, still looking for wherever Lavinia went.

"Y'know," Lavinia said loudly, making Maria jump, "you're lucky that I wasn't the owner of this car. I don't know nothin' 'bout cars all that much, but this one looked like it must've cost an arm and a leg."

Maria smiled at Lavinia as she stood up. "Oh don't worry Lavi, this is only just Mr Hardarse's car I was hiding behind." She did look at the ice pack Lavinia was still pressing on her cheek, however. "Oh dear, you got into another spat, didn't you–?"

"Shite, Maria," Lavinia muttered, frantically glancing around her surroundings for that familiar bald head. "And yeah, I just got into another bovver–" she shook her head, "err,  _got into_   _trouble_  again with Mr 'ardarse and 'eadmaster Williams for another fight."

"Did you started it this time or…?"

Lavinia shook her head. "Nah, I just bumped into some arsehole and 'e apparently took enough offense for a round of fisticuffs. 'Ad to show 'im I wasn't interested."

"Oh my, Lavi," Maria snickered, "you ought to try to avoid getting into more spats. How did you deal with him?"

"Can we talk about this on the way 'ome? I ain't gettin' into no trouble again right after knocking that berk on his arris."

"Ah, right, sorry!"

To Lavinia's relief both she and Maria finally started walking out of the car park and onto the pavement. The afternoon sun shone through the billowing clouds on this fine spring day in Winchester, Hampshire, and there were people milling about throughout the streets with the occasional car driving by. The air was rather cool and a wispy mist spewed out of Lavinia's lips with each breath she took, almost like the thin fingers of cigarette smoke.

As soon as Watkins School was behind them, Maria perked up at Lavinia. "So, mind telling me how did you dealt with the lout?"

"'Lout,' 'uh? I think 'is last name was Cox or somethin', actually."

"Hold on," Maria's eyes widened, "that sounds like  _Harry_  Cox you had just fought."

Lavinia raised an eyebrow. "What, y'know 'im or somethin'?"

"Not by, if that's what you're wondering," Maria chuckled, but it faded. "Not to put a fine point on it, but he comes from a pretty rich and well-known family."

"The school's full of posh rich kids, Maria. What makes 'im different?"

Maria hummed. "Well, Harry's parents know  _my_  parents, for starters."

"Oh, in that case, that's all I need to know then." Lavinia shrugged. "'ow many parents of the rich kids 'ere  _don't_  know yours?"

"Quite honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if there were a few who didn't. I mean, for starters, you're one of them."

"Yeah, you got that right." Lavinia stared at the pavement at first, occasionally straightening her dark-blue coat and blazer. "Y'know, I 'ave to wonder if I'm ever gonna find an explanation for me soul sight."

Maria looked at her. "You're finally giving that strange ability a name now?"

"Sure, why not? I 'ad this me whole life without knowing what it was, might as well give it a proper name so I don't 'ave to keep on callin' it 'soul mincers' or whatever other ridiculous name I gave them."

"Quite," Maria nodded at her. "I still have a hard time believing you can actually see souls, even after all these months. Still, I can't really deny that you have something about you that allows you to know exactly where people are."

Lavinia smirked. "Like I always say, these mincers of mine ain't just for lookin'." Her smirk faded into a frown. "Still, I never found anything on either the books or the internet that explains this. And I've asked enough times to be called 'barking mad' and shit. You'd think there'd be at least  _one other_  person out there who knows what I'm goin' through."

"Not to put a  _too_  fine point on it, but for all we know there might be  _only_  one other person like you, and they might be living out in the Australian desert or even some other far-off place. It would be like trying to find an infinitesimal needle in a ginormous global haystack."

"Maybe," Lavinia shrugged. "It would still suck, though."

Lavinia and Maria continued to talk about their daily lives as they walked home. About some odd fifteen minutes or so passed when they finally reached their neighborhood. Lavinia spotted her brick house just down the street and she looked through her house with her soul sight. No sign of mum, probably had gone to work already, which was good; Auntie Elena was at home, and that was even better.

"Oi, Maria," Lavinia turned to her, "wanna 'ang out with me? Mum ain't home right now and she won't be comin' back for a while from the boozer―but my Auntie Elena's there, which is great."

Maria nodded almost immediately. "Of course, Lavi! I'd quite be with you right now than go straight home to  _mother and father_ ," her voice trailed off into disappointment.

"Glad to 'ear that," Lavinia smiled.

Walking down the street, Lavinia and Maria turned left to the former's house and they went through the gated yard. Climbing up the steps, Lavinia produced her key from her wallet and unlocked the door, then headed inside. As she removed her shoes, there was the familiar jingling of bells and the pattering of feet coming her way, and when she looked up Lavinia grinned at her Welsh Corgi.

"Oi, Drei!" Lavinia embraced him and rubbed her cheek on his sniffing snout. "Guess what, Lavi's back from school! Innit he the cutest little corgi 'round, Maria?"

Maria giggled as she kicked off her shoes and scratched Drei's neck. "Quite Lavi, quite!"

"Welcome back, Lavinia."

Lavinia perked up to see her aunt Elena standing up from the couch and waved at her. "Oi, Auntie, 'ow ya' been?"

"Work's fine," she gestured at her expensive-looking laptop. "What about you? How's school?"

"Um," Lavinia closed the door behind her and Maria and locked it, then, without looking at Elena, headed for the kitchen. "Fine―fine I suppose."

"I see," Elena nodded, then she looked at Maria. "She didn't get into too much trouble now, did she, Maria?"

"Well," Maria turned to Lavinia, only to see her already in the kitchen pulling out the cutting boards; knives; pots; olives, onions, spinach, and garlic; pasta; and raw beef. "The school day was quite typical."

Elena hummed. "I see. I ask because I received an interesting call from Headmaster Williams about another fight today."

Lavinia froze, but she forced herself to continue preparing the steak and pasta dinner.

"Of course," Elena muttered as she went to the kitchen to see Lavinia preparing dinner again. "Alright, firstly: Lavinia, let me prepare dinner, you and Maria hang out and/or do your homework if you have any."

"Erm, alright." Lavinia let Elena fill up the pot with water and picked up her book bag that she hung on the nearby chair.

Elena put the pot on the electric stove and turned on the heat. "Secondly: Lavinia, tell me what happened."

"I was just headin' out of school when I bumped into that Cox arsehole or whatever the hell his name was. He tried to stick one on me, then I shoved 'im, and then we got into the scrap."

"Is that the whole truth?"

Lavinia froze, pursing her lips. No use making up porky pies. "...Actually, I was at the school's courtyard when it 'appened."

"What were you doing there?"

"...Curiosity."

"'Curiosity,' because…?"

"...I 'eard there was gonna be a meetup. Don't know what exactly, but couldn't have 'urt to check it out and see what's up."

Elena sighed. "Should I presume this meetup does not preclude louts, hooligans, and gangster wannabes?"

Lavinia swallowed, sighing as well. "Auntie, I was just curious to see if those upper-class gits were actually genuine or just being porky pieing wannabes."

"Were you hoping to prove a point for the sake of hubris?"

"...I'm not going to deny that if they  _were_  being wannabes I would've shown them a thing or two about what being part of a  _real_  posse was like."

"That doesn't quite answer my question." Elena had cut up the garlic, olives, spinach, and onions and put them all in a separate heating pan, then stirred them together. She turned to her. "Lavinia, I need you to face me, please. Let's look at each other in the eyes."

Lavinia kept facing Maria at first, who was only watching them as Drei sat next to her bare feet. Still, Lavinia forced herself to turn around and gazed right into Auntie Elena's green eyes―while Auntie gazed into her blue-green ones.

"Alright, now, answer the question, please: were you hoping to prove a point because of pride for your old posse?"

"...I genuinely didn't give a damn about whatever those gits were planning to do," Lavinia growled, crossing her arms. "Maybe I would've been pissed off either way, but I couldn't 'elp but take a look, at the very least."

Elena hummed. "Was that the reason you got into a scrap today?"

"Thankfully, no," Lavinia shook her head. "I saw what those birdbrained toffs–" she paused and glanced at Maria, but she shrugged and shot a smile back, thankfully, "erm, birdbrained  _gits_  were sellin' and I didn't like it. I tried to bail out after that, but then I bumped shoulders with that Cox berk and now 'ere we are."

"I see."

There silence between the two as Auntie Elena began cutting up the beef. Lavinia glanced at Maria, who shrugged back and picked up and cradled Drei in her arms, then she gazed at Auntie Elena's back. Well, this was quite awkward. She really wanted to leave now and hang out with Maria, but…

"Lavinia."

She perked up and saw Auntie Elena turning to her, a frown on her face.

"I know you can be a good person underneath, you just need to keep on practicing that more. Please, try not to get into any more scraps with your peers; you don't need to fill up your criminal record with more shite as it is."

"Yes, I understand Auntie Elena," Lavinia nodded, but she cast her eyes on the shiny tiled floor.

"Good. Now go and have some fun with your friend; she looks quite anxious from that serious talk."

Maria looked surprised when she mentioned that, but Lavinia turned and went towards her with a sigh of relief. That was a lot more nerve-wracking than she originally thought. Lavinia picked Drei off from Maria's arms and snuggled him a bit before setting him down, then she and Maria went to the living room to sit on the couch.

"Are you gonna be alright, Lavi?" Maria said, concern in her eyes.

Lavinia nodded. "Yeah, don't mind me. Old 'abits die 'ard, as the saying goes."

"Well, why don't we move on to something that's less dark?" Maria grabbed the TV remote and turned on the cable. "Like the news?"

"Maria," Lavinia chuckled, "that's the  _opposite_  of less dark."

"Come on, it's always good to have a listen to the world every once in a while, innit?"

Lavinia sighed, shaking her head as Maria snickered. "Maria, please try not to imitate me accent. You sound ridiculous tryin' to talk in cockney; I actually prefer your RP accent."

"But everyone's been talking in their regional accents these days," Maria said, frowning. "People are literally starting to call me 'posh' and 'wealthy' and all that just because of the way I speak. Even  _cockney_  is getting a better reception these days, Lavi."

"Well, I ain't denyin' that."

Both Lavinia and Maria chuckled for a bit before pulling up their book bags and taking out their assigned homework for the day. As they prepare to do their homework, Maria turned to Lavinia.

"Hey, Lavi?"

"Yeah, Maria?" she looked at her.

Maria pursed her lips. "Do you think you'll ever find your father?"

"'Ell if I know." Lavinia frowned, casting her gaze on the floor. "'E's been gone for me entire life. Mum never said much about 'im at all, 'cept for the fact 'e was a professor once."

"I see," Maria sighed. "Well, at least you have your Auntie Elena with you."

Lavinia nodded, smiling at her. "Yeah, I do. And don't forget you as well, Maria. You've been a great a friend to me this entire school year; I 'ope that stays that way for another."

"Aw, Lavi," Maria grinned and hugged her. "You have no idea how truly glad I am to hear that."

Lavinia hugged back. "You 'ave no idea 'ow much this means to me, either." They separated and she glanced at her homework. "Alright, let's get this shite over with."

"Of course," Maria nodded.

The minutes became long for Lavinia and Maria's homework session as, in the background, BBC newscasters began reporting on the recent string of murders that came to an unexpected end―no thanks to the (in)famous Vigilantes.


	3. Enrollment Committee

Nearly half an hour of jogging through the streets of Death City, passing by the Market area in Death Square, and ascending up the Grand Stairwell later, Sid was gasping somewhat for air as he bent forward on his knees. That was a good morning run, especially at the end right there. At least  _everyone_  in DWMA must have improved their cardiovascular health by a great margin just walking up and down these stairs almost every day. In fact, that was perhaps one of the only positive things Sid could say about the academy.

Could he call in sick today? Well, that certainly wasn't possible now considering Sid was already here and he had done his morning workout. Sometimes he was too diligent for his own good; after all, he was the kind of man to never half-ass work—even if he disagreed with what he was doing at times.

Nothing was going to get done if he just stood around here. So as soon as he caught his breath, Sid strode through the courtyard, passing between the columns that stretched out upwards into pearly-white teeth of three simple cartoon skulls, which were etched upon the rooftop of the front entrance, and went inside the academy. There, the hallways were mostly quiet with the  _squeak, squeak_  of his running shoes echoing loudly throughout. Sid checked his watch: it was 8:09 AM. Still had some time before the enrollment committee meeting starts. He headed straight for the faculty offices.

After walking into the left wing of the academy, Sid reached the doors of the faculty offices. He found that the first door was unlocked and he slipped inside. The whole room was lit up with fluorescent lights and there were already a few professors, teachers, and other staff members either at their desks or going about their business. Sid greeted a few of his fellow colleagues as he headed for the time-clock to punch in the time he came here.

Just as Sid finally punched in his time with his ID card, a familiar voice spoke behind him. "Yo, Sid, mornin' to ya', man."

"Good morning to you too, Spirit." Sid turned to him with a smile. "How have you been?"

Spirit yawned, stretching his arms. "No worse for wear, I guess. Man, I hate these enrollment meetings. Picking out which student from the lottery system to recruit into the NOT program for nearly two weeks straight is tiring, y'know?"

"Well, it's not like we can employ someone else to pick potential students and expect them to be similar-minded in our criteria; judging NOT students on a case-by-case basis should never trivialized as only a simple matter."

"Yeah, you got that right, but still, none of the NOT students even know what the college they got accepted to actually is."

"That, I will concede on." The lottery system itself was something Sid himself didn't exactly agreed or disagreed with, per se; it was probably better described as a necessary evil.

Sid looked around the faculty offices and noticed the others weren't here. "Are Mira, Khan, Frank, and the rest here yet?"

"Yeah, they are," Spirit nodded. "They're all already in the Death Room, though, and I said I was just gonna wait here for you here. Now that you're here, let's go and join up with the rest of them."

With that said, Sid followed Spirit out of the faculty offices. They walked through the hallways alone and away from prying eyes, and as they reached a nearby stairwell Spirit turned back to him. He first checked their flanks for any potential eavesdroppers, then, seeing as the coast was clear, he whispered to him.

"I heard Black Star got his own apartment now. How's he been doing?"

Sid raised an eyebrow at him. "He's doing fine as far as I can tell. It's going to be his first year in the EAT Program, however, and I'm a bit anxious as to whether he'll find a Weapon partner or not."

"Colonel Sid Barrett of the United States Marine Corps,  _nervous_?" Spirit chuckled. "Now that's something I've never thought I get to hear."

"I'm not the kind of man who completely denies that he gets nervous sometimes," Sid rolled his eyes. "That being said, get to the point; I know you didn't take us out here alone just to talk about Black Star's current living accommodations."

Spirit's chuckle faded as his expression became solemn. "Now that Black Star's no longer living with you, are you still thinking about leaving DWMA?"

Sid sighed. Of course he wanted to bring this up. "Since when was it possible to  _ever_  completely leave the Masquerade, Spirit? They can't have people just leaving a global cover-up like that in a pinch and allow random elements to expose the entire thing."

"Well, that didn't stop Anna from leaving DWMA."

Sid narrowed his eyes. "Technically, on paper, she took an early retirement from DWMA and returned to London. It's very likely she's not coming back, however, unless a Kishin somehow gets born."

"I'm just saying," Spirit shrugged. "I want out too as much as you do, but I'm not leaving Maka behind just because I hate Lord Death. You, at least, seem to be free to do whatever the hell you want now."

"I'm tempted to 'retire' from DWMA like Anna, but I'm not the kind of man to leave his own family behind like you."

"Yeah, you got that right," Spirit grumbled. "That doesn't change the fact that I still have to serve as Lord Death's personal Death Scythe. Until another Scythe Weapon turns into a Death Scythe and replaces me, I don't think I'm having a career change any time soon."

Sid nodded. "I hear ya'. I guess neither of us have that many options left, huh?"

"Well, Mira had said before that we should stay here in DWMA and try to change things, stop telling the students the evils of witches and all that crap and try to offer some alternative viewpoints."

"Change things in DWMA, huh?" Sid scoffed. "I think Mira has the right idea, but I can't imagine it working any time soon, not when Lord Death still remains as the headmaster here."

Spirit frowned. "So what does that mean for you then, man? You're going to stay here after all?"

"What choice do I have? Even though I'm the kind of man that tries to find a different way, retiring early from DWMA is still not going to absolve us of our knowledge of the Masquerade―and neither what we did in Operation Crucible and before that, for that matter―and any attempts to change some of the less well-meaning parts of the curriculum here runs the risk of us getting found out about our 'disagreements' with Lord Death. I don't know," Sid shrugged, sighing, "I just don't find any benefit in leaving DWMA at all for the moment. We either go with the flow or we don't, I'm afraid."

"Sid, you know that Charles―or even Anna for that matter―wouldn't want to see that kind of attitude right now–"

" _I know_ ," Sid growled. "Spirit, let's just go and get this enrollment meeting over with before anyone finds us here."

Spirit opened his mouth, but he hesitated and nodded at him. "Yeah, alright, I'm coming."

And so the two continued their way upstairs just as Sid spotted a few professors coming their way. Luckily they didn't seem to have noticed Sid and Spirit's conversation, neither the fact that they hadn't gone up to Death Room despite leaving the faculty offices earlier, so Sid and Spirit hurried up to the upper floors of the academy. Once they reached the uppermost floor of the administrative level, they strode through the hallways and passed by private offices before reaching the hallway leading to the Death Room.

At the end of this hallway was a giant door leading to the Death Room itself. The door itself had a strange design in that the doorframe appears to be glossy, as if it was covered in glass, and there were two cartoon skulls resembling Lord Death's mask that served as a large sign etched on top of the doorframe and as an ancient doorbell, complete with a silver ring, respectively. Standing around the door were Mira, Frank, and Khan respectively.

"Hey, good morning to you all," Sid said to them all as he and Spirit waved once. "We're not too late to the meeting now, are we?"

"Good morning to you too, Sid." Mira, after waving back at the two herself, checked her watch. "It's currently 8:25 AM, so you and Spirit are just in time. I do suggest we head inside the Death Room at once."

"Yeah, I agree," Frank said, twisting that giant screw of his. He took one last puff of his cigarette before disposing of it on top ashtray of the nearby trash can. "We wouldn't want to keep the Grim Reaper waiting now, do we?"

Khan nodded at him. "Indeed. It would be impolite of us to do so minutes before the start of an important gathering. Now, shall we proceed?"

"I have to wonder why you keep wearing that stupid thing, Frank," Sid sighed. "I still think that giant screw prop just makes you look stupid."

Frank just grinned as he removed the prop from his head. "Come on Sid, why don't you have a little bit of fun in your life? It's always funny when your freshmen genuinely believes you actually had a giant screw surgically implanted through your brain and skull."

"Like I keep saying Sid," Spirit groaned, "Frank's just sadistic that way. I don't know why you keep on questioning it, it's just the way he is."

Khan turned to Sid as he opened the door. "You could say Dr. Stein shares some characteristics to mythological tricksters such as Loki and the Kitsune from the Norse and Japanese mythologies respectively. In his case, his brand of trickery is relatively harmless."

"Good to know. Again," Spirit muttered and rolled his eyes.

Khan narrowed his eye at him. "Professor Albarn, there are two types of fools in this world: one possesses virtually infinite potential, and the other is just an ignorant fool. I don't think I need to tell you where your actions place you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, Khan," Spirit scoffed as he strode through the door. "Let's just get this meeting over with."

Sid just sighed as Khan followed behind Spirit along with Mira and Frank following suit. Once the hallway looked clear, Sid went inside last and closed the door behind him. An endless and expansive desert, inhabited by nothing but bizarrely-shaped crosses, surrounded Sid and the others. Everyone walked over a stone pathway that was paved underneath a series of guillotine toriis, which connected to a great stone pavilion further ahead. A series of windows, floating high above it, surrounded the pavilion.

There, Sid and the others spotted at least ten conference tables placed throughout, which were populated by the numerous professors, teachers, and Death Weapons. He recognized several faces: Dr. Clara Einstein, conversing with Khan with excitement as always; former Agent and Spetsnaz Kuzma Zima, who was talking to former JGSDF Colonel Miyoko Tokugawa on matters pertaining to the SAT Program; Professor Abigail Lapointe, a Death Pike joking and laughing with Spirit and Saniyya Al-Farsi, the latter two being fellow Death Weapons themselves; and the infamous Servius Marius himself―the Millennia General―sitting at the head conference table.

Also sitting at the head conference table was none other than the bastard Lord Death himself.

Lord Death just waved at Sid and the others. "Ah, Sid, Spirit, Frank, Mira, and Khan, so glad to see you all here this morning! Thanks for coming!"

"Likewise," Sid muttered as he took his seat with Spirit. God, this is the fifteenth time they're going to be here for hours with the son of a bitch.

Mira just forced a nod at Lord Death. "Good morning to you too."

"Yeah, morning," both Frank and Spirit said.

"Yes, good morning," Khan said with haste.

Lord Death looked around, seeing a few more professors trickling. "Since everyone is still not present yet, why don't we all have a look at the results of the latest mission one of our top junior Reaper teams took on?"

He rose up and approached a big and very tall mirror that stood behind him. There, he tapped the glass, which rippled out light like water, and the mirror's reflection became that of a news conference room, the words "BBC News" appearing as a tagline on a red bar near the bottom of the mirror. There were several newscasters sitting at a comfortable table, engaged in discussion.

"...unconfirmed reports of Vigilante involvement in the Hopkins murder case. Police say that while they did find the corpse of the murderer hanging from a traffic light, they are neither denying nor confirming that a Vigilante was responsible."

The reflection of the BBC newsroom became an onscreen video of the crime scene, which was congested with police tape and officers, and everyone stared at the paramedics pushing a covered body into the ambulance in the background.

"Maka," Spirit smiled, "you made Daddy proud yet again."

Sid hummed as watched the news. "Yeah, that daughter of yours has been doing well the past couple of weeks, Spirit. Congratulations."

Someone with a British accent spoke over the video. "For the past three weeks, London had been under attack by a mysterious serial killer who called himself 'Hopkins.' In that span of time, he is estimated to have murdered twenty-two people and had consistently evaded police capture, even consecutively killing seven police officers during one attempt. Last night, SOCA had received an anonymous tip detailing the death and location of serial killer Hopkins…"

"Looks like both the MI5 and the Chauffers have done their job well," Mira said. "No mention of the killer's appearance or capabilities, as well as any mention of Maka and Soul, anywhere."

Kuzma scoffed. "I do wonder how much money we have to spend to keep the few witnesses that had been made quiet. I would be surprised if it was small relative to the other expenses."

"I'm pretty sure the salaries are one of the bigger, if not  _the_  biggest, expenses for DWMA's budget, Kuzma," Abigail said. "After all, you gotta pay the people who are part of this global conspiracy well, at least."

"I suppose that is true."

The video screen soon returned to the BBC news conference room, where several commentators sat around a table together. One of them cleared his throat and faced the opposing man, who looked like an expert on particular matters.

"These Vigilantes, Mr Harrison, do you think their work is for the greater good? For decades, the Vigilantes have only targeted murderers, sex offenders, organized crime members and other criminals who committed felonies and their activities have ultimately contributed to lowering crime rates in cities around the world. Certainly no one can deny the impact they've made."

Mr. Harrison, the man sitting on one of the chairs of the newsroom, shook his head. "No Mr Beaufort, the positive impact these Vigilantes had on decreasing crime rates in many nations around the world are undeniable. That said, they're taking the law into their own hands to judge and punish these criminals without being granted any legal authority. There is still too much we do not know about this group, how they operate, where they're operating from, if they're simply an informal confederation of loosely-allied groups or far more organized than they seem to be. It's astounding that international law enforcement agencies have yet to uncover more information on these Vigilantes…"

"You have to thank the Council's foreign and domestic intelligence agencies for that, Mr. Newscaster," Kuzma chuckled. "Always pulling through for us despite their respective governments' conflicting interests."

Servius, his arms crossed, hummed with Kuzma. "It astounds me that your countries' intelligence agencies are attempting to set aside their differences for the sake of the Masquerade considering the history between the former Western and Eastern Blocs. If only the American colonists and their King were just as willing."

On the mirror, the expert continued conversing with his recipient. "Mr Harrison, what of the Brown Article? Surely that would provide some insight as to the nature of the Vigilantes."

"While it is tragic that Garrett Brown had died under mysterious circumstances, the article itself has been and still is the center of criticism and debate in the journalism world. There are still those who doubt the validity of Brown's claims, but there's no doubt that the circumstances behind his passing do have cause for suspicion for many people; in fact, there are still private investigators out there who are trying to clear the mystery surrounding Mr Brown's death and uncover the truth of the matter. No one cannot deny that there is some degree of truth to his article, but the issue is which is truthful and which isn't. Unfortunately, so far, Mr Brown's notes have remained missing since his passing, so we are left to ponder at which parts of his article are truth and which are fiction."

"It's a shame we had to kill Garrett," Clara said, frowning. "I'd rather we don't have to assassinate innocent people in the name of the Masquerade, but alas, that is not the reality we live in."

Kuzma scowled at her. "That man would have caused far more trouble for us had he remained alive, Dr. Einstein. That said, his assassination could have gone smoother; otherwise, we wouldn't have as many people asking questions and conducting their own investigations."

"Indeed," Saniyya nodded. "The Masquerade can't afford to have too many random elements out of its control; all it would take is a witch, Evil Human, Kishin Egg, or an evil Forgotten attacking a major population center in broad daylight―or, in this case, a persistent, intelligent, and well-known journalist and investigator―especially if we don't take immediate action."

Sid just sat in his seat in silence. There had been very few moments where the Masquerade's secrecy had been threatened, but Garrett's investigation into the Hanged Man Murders had to be one of the closer ones. The only moments Sid knew of where the Masquerade was the closest to being exposed were the Cuban Missile Crisis and Nazi Germany's top-secret Psyche Weapons Program, one of their only successful Wunderwaffe.

"As long as our Reapers continue culling the extranormal populations, there shouldn't be much of a problem, honestly," Frank said, lighting up another cigarette. "To be frank, heh, I would be more worried about people like Garrett; even if we could get the Council intelligence agencies to cover for us, there's only so much we can get away with before the people truly start getting suspicious. At least witches, Evil Humans, Kishin Eggs and the Forgotten usually keep to themselves to avoid drawing attention."

"Oh yes," Lord Death said, "it's not easy keeping the global conspiracy quiet when you have people actively trying to investigate; it often leads to messy situations that don't end well for everyone! But enough of that, it's time for everyone's favorite activity: the selection process!"

Producing a large stack of manila folders from his robes―lord knows where he exactly kept them in there―Lord Death laid sets of them down at the middle of each and every conference table. Everyone began taking the manila folders and looking through them, Sid and company included. It had been nothing but boring paperwork and discussion and debate for the past thirty minutes, with some of the tables occasionally running their nominations with Lord Death so he can choose which student to enroll and which to reject. That said, Sid was sure that they were more than halfway done with the selection process by this point, so there was at least another week or so of doing this for nearly six hours straight.

On his seventh manila folder, resting his cheek on the palm and knuckles of his hand, Sid flipped it open with the flick of his fingers and skimmed through the profile. He lingered on the surname of the teenage dirty blonde-haired girl–

Sid's eyes widened as he lifted up his head from his palm and stared at the surname. That can't be right. Von Auttenberg?

"What the  _hell_ …?" Sid shook Spirit's shoulder without breaking away from the profile. "Hey, Spirit, take a look at this!"

Spirit sighed and turned to him. "Yeah, what is it, you found a good one or somethin'?"

"No," Sid shook his head, eyes wide and filled with shock and horror. "This is worse. Take a look."

"Okay Sid, now you're starting to freak me out…" That said, Spirit received the profile then from Sid and the former skimmed through the profile. A moment passed, then he gasped and turned to Sid, eyes also wide and surprised.

"'Lavinia Wells  _von Auttenberg_?'  _Von Auttenberg_? Dude, this profile ain't lying, is it?"

"I seriously doubt it," Sid said. "Why would Anna  _want_  to get her child in DWMA in the first place?"

"A better question is when the hell did Charles and Anna got a kid." Spirit leaned on his chair, shaking his head. "As far as I know, they didn't tell us anything about actually having a family already."

"What seems to be the problem here?" Mira said, looking up from her folder. "Something happened?"

"Von Auttenberg happened," Spirit said as he threw the manila folder at her.

After Mira read through the profile, she faced Sid and Spirit with solemn eyes. "I see… I had no idea Charles and Anna had a daughter. This is news to me as well."

"So you didn't know about this either," Sid sighed, then turned to the others. "Frank, Khan, Saniyya, Abigail, Clara, take a look at what we found."

Catching their attentions, Sid passed the manila folder around the conference table. All of them were surprised at the person detailed in that profile: Abigail and Saniyya openly showed their surprise while Clara, Frank, and Khan appeared to be mildly interested at the revelations they just read. When Sid retrieved Lavinia's profile, he looked at all of them and waited to hear their response.

"So, Charles and Anna conceived," Frank murmured as he twisted his screw. "I certainly didn't expect to see their daughter showing up in the DCA Lottery System."

Khan rubbed the knotted beard of his chin. "Curious. The only probable time frame where I can see Charles and Anna conceiving a child has to be before Operation Crucible."

"So you're saying Charles and Anna had sex before we invaded New Salem?" Abigail snorted. "Thanks for putting the mental image in my head, Khan."

"I am merely pointing out possibilities, Dr. Lapointe."

Saniyya rolled her eyes. "Focus, Abigail. The fact that Lavinia's profile appeared in the Lottery System is a problem in of itself; the sorters usually filter out the students from Reaper Families because they already know about the Masquerade anyway."

"So then the question is why Lavinia's profile has not been filtered," Frank said. "I might have a few ideas in that regard: I think, technically, the Von Auttenbergs aren't registered as a Reaper Family because Anna never filed for it back when she was still working in DWMA. So when she retired, her and Charles records should only reference their marriage and nothing else. I guessed the sorters must have been confused when Lavinia's profile popped up in the Lottery System and they decided to err on the side of caution."

Spirit scoffed. "So the sorters are just gonna let us deal with this ourselves."

"That seems to be the case," Sid sighed. "So Charles had a kid, and a daughter at that." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh god…"

Clara pursed her lips. "The fact Ms. Von Auttenberg appeared in the Lottery System leads me to believe that she possesses a soul ability. In fact, let me look through that again," she grabbed the manila folder and parsed through it. "Ah, there it is!" she tapped her finger on the Soul Abilities section. "Her manifested power is soul perception. Well, it seems we've finally unraveled the mystery as to how she got selected by the system, at least."

"So," Abigail glanced at everyone, "now what? Lavinia's in the Lottery System now, and it's not like we can just ignore this."

"Are you suggesting we should enroll Ms. Von Auttenberg into DWMA?" Clara said.

Abigail shrugged. "I don't see why not. I mean, technically Lavinia's a member of a Reaper Family, and by academy law Reaper Families are required to send their children to DWMA when they become thirteen years old."

Khan shook his head. "I'm afraid this is more complicated than you might have been led to believe, Dr. Lapointe. None of us―and I doubt nearly anyone else in the Masquerade, except maybe for the Wells Siblings―were aware that Charles and Anna had next of kin for all this time. Their daughter is three years behind, and judging by her background, it appears that Anna had barely raised her properly. Even if we somehow managed to convince Lord Death to enroll Ms. Von Auttenberg into the Especially Advantaged Talent Program, she'll be far behind her peers in nearly every category demanded of a Reaper."

"Well, Anna basically neglected her daughter. Y'know, I don't think I'm actually surprised by that, to be honest," Spirit sighed, leaning his head on his hand. "I would be even more of a deadbeat too if I saw Kami dying before my eyes."

"I hear commotion!" they all heard Lord Death sing as he appeared before them. "I hope that's a real catch you eight found!"

Sid closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Well, if they were planning on hiding Lavinia, no use doing that now.

After sighing, Sid gave Lavinia's folder to him. "Lord Death, you may want to have a look at this."

"Hmm," Lord Death read through the profile, the eyeholes of his mask widening. "Oh, this is interesting: Lavinia Wells Von Auttenberg, aged sixteen, female, currently attending Watkins School in Winchester, England, possesses the soul perception ability since birth, and the sole child of Charles and Anna von Auttenberg. This is news to me, that's for sure."

Sid closed his eyes. "Lord Death, we've been discussing about the possibility of enrolling Lavinia von Auttenberg into DWMA. Though she is technically from a Reaper Family, her mother had never registered the Von Auttenbergs as such and her profile doesn't seem to indicate she had been trained in any combat art whatsoever."

Lord Death rubbed his chin, or where his chin would have been. "Well, that's a tough call. By academy law all Reaper Families must send their children in DWMA's EAT Program by the time they turn thirteen. However, I had no idea until now that Charles and Anna had a child of their own, and since there seems to be no indication that Anna ever trained her for EAt I find it incredibly unlikely she will compete well with her peers in EAT, even with her respectable school performance. In fact, since she doesn't seem to have any combat training, I'd say it's also not improbable she had never been made aware of DWMA, the Council of Nations, the Masquerade, or even the Soul Arts for that matter―well, apart from her soul perception."

"Bringing an virtually untrained civilian into a combat program that demands prerequisite training?" Saniyya shook her head. "That's a rather tall order at her current state; there's a reason only fifteen percent of the student body attend EAT."

"That doesn't mean we can't try to bring her up to peak physical condition and with the proper training, instructors, and equipment now, can we?" Abigail said. "Now the real question is: how long will it take before we can consider Lavinia ready for the rigors of the EAT Program?"

Spirit shook his head. "I don't think Lavinia will be able to match up with her peers in EAT at all, even if we put her through a training gauntlet. Nearly everyone in EAT had been groomed to become Reapers from birth; if we put her through the training, Lavinia will just turn out like another exceptional NOT student who earned their way to EAT like Maka's partner."

"Not bad points, all of you," Lord Death continued to rub where his chin would have been. "Well, in consideration of Lavinia's circumstances , I think it might be more appropriate if we enroll her in the NOT Program instead."

Everyone around the conference table―even Clara, Frank, and Khan―stared at Lord Death as if he had became mortal. Enroll the child of a Reaper Family―well technically the Von Auttenbergs aren't a  _de jure_  Reaper Family, but that's besides the point―into the NOT Program? Well, Sid could understand the reasoning behind such a decision, but…

Mira shook her head. "Lord Death, with all due respect, I don't think that's a good idea. We still have classist problems with some of the students in the academy, and to enroll Lavinia into the NOT Program will only draw unneeded fire from those elitist elements."

"Well," Lapointe crossed her arms, "I think that it's just pretty damn shitty that some of the students in the EAT and SAT Programs would look down on the poor girl. Still, we've never enrolled a Reaper Family child into the NOT Program before, much less received one from the Lottery System of all places."

Spirit shrugged. "Well, she's screwed either way: Lavinia enrolls in the EAT Program and the Darwinian idiots start piling on her for being a weakling; Lavinia enrolls in the NOT Program and the Darwinian idiots will pile on her even harder for being a weakling who couldn't even make it to the EAT Program despite being a member of a Reaper Family. I mean, don't get me wrong, we could make it work, at least in terms of giving Lavinia a damn good university education, it's just those elitist snobs that we have to worry about."

Frank blew out a puff of smoke. "Not to mention her criminal record: armed robbery, vandalism, assaults and batteries… it's the record of the typical gangster, and her background indicates she had once been part of a gang. I'd be wary of her Lavinia, even if she had made attempts to reform with her aunt's help."

"That too," Spirit nodded. "I hope she won't go around and start fights in DWMA. Last thing we need is having Lavinia give ammo to those snobby cliques to use against her and to fuel their agendas."

Saniyya hummed. "That's part of the reason I am hesitant to enroll Lavinia at all. Another part of it is why she has never been sent to DWMA."

"I'm afraid Charles' death was a necessary evil, Saniyya," Lord Death, a frown on his mask―a sight that was enough to make Sid and some of the others frown and scowl to themselves. "That said, I would hate to pass over a young girl who never knew her heritage or father like Lavinia, not when she has never been learnt in the ways of the Soul Arts and the Masquerade; she would have enemies hunting her down and she wouldn't even know of it."

Mira gazed at Lord Death with pursed lips and furrowed brows. "So, are you suggesting we enroll Lavinia into DWMA regardless?"

"That's correct, Mira," Lord Death nodded. "At the very least, I think Lavinia deserves to learn about the truth behind her real heritage and–"

"–Charles'  _death_ ," Sid said out loud, his eyes cast down now. "You're saying Lavinia deserves to know what had happened to her father and what she has been born into."

The conference table became deathly silent, and Sid felt all eyes on him. Of all the people to be chosen by the Lottery System, it  _had_  to be Charles and Anna's daughter. Lavinia knew nothing of the Masquerade and Soul Arts, much less who was her father if Anna never bothered to tell her anything at all. Sid nearly shuddered at the thought of Lavinia finding out the truth behind Charles.

Lord Death, sweating at the deathly silence, slowly nodded. "Uh, why yes, Sid―Lavinia deserves to know about her heritage and her father."

Khan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then sighed and opened them. "I have no doubts that this teenaged girl wishes to learn the truth behind her father's absence from her life, as well as her, from her perspective, uncanny ability to see the souls of the living. Enrolling Ms. Von Auttenberg will mean bringing her up to speed on DWMA, the Masquerade, and the Soul Arts―which are all concepts and ideas that her mother should have taught her from birth."

"And yet, we have to fill in the training she should've gotten from Anna," Saniyya muttered, brown eyes narrowed. "Could we make her into a fully-fledged EAT student? Perhaps, but, as it has been said before, she will have trouble competing well with her peers―who  _had_  gotten the needed training before their enrollment."

Lapointe frowned. "Well, y'know, we  _could_  always send Lavinia into the SAT Program. It's mostly just special forces training, and that's something we'll have an easier time doing; hell, you don't need to be necessarily from the EAT Program or have a partner, you just need to work as a unit with other people."

"But it would be immensely helpful to be from EAT, however," Saniyya said.

"True…"

Sid pursed his lips. No doubt that Lavinia will come to DWMA unaware of its true identity or the Masquerade it and the Council of Nations upholds, just like every NOT student that came and will continue coming before and after her. It seems that Lord Death was intent on bringing Lavinia here, but was that a good idea? Well, if was going to be honest, that question was more for himself. After all, he would hate to have to tell Lavinia the news.

As soon as conversation between the others had settled down, Lord Death gazed at everyone. "Well, if no one objects to the idea of enrolling Lavinia into DMWA, then I'd say we should accept her as soon as possible! Now, we'll need a mentor for her to bring her up to speed, as well as appointing her some instructors to help train her. I think we can cover her martial arts and fitness instructors, it's just that mentor that we need.

Saniyya shook her head. "I'm afraid the SAT Program it taking up my time enough as it is, and I highly doubt Spirit and Frank would be particularly interested in mentoring a NOT student either."

"Yeah," Spirit nodded as he crossed his arms, "Maka might think I'm trying to get a new mother for her if she sees me with Charles' kid around." The thought alone was enough to make him shudder.

If Lord Death could smile with that mask of his, he was certainly doing it now. "Now, who said I was going to let someone volunteer to mentor Lavinia?"

Khan leaned forward, bringing his chin on his folded hands with a smile. "Ah, so you're already had someone in mind?"

"Based on the current circumstances, yes Khan," Lord Death nodded. Then he brought his foam-like hand and pointed at–

Sid blinked.

"Sid will mentor our special NOT student."

The others' eyes laid upon Sid once more as he stared at Lord Death. He―he can't be serious, right? Appointing  _him_  as Lavinia's personal mentor? Especially after what  _happened_  in New Salem? Not to mention the fact that there  _had_  to be a reason for Lord Death choosing  _Sid Barrett_ , of all people!

Sid shot up from his seat. "Lord Death, are you sure you want to choose me to be  _Lavinia's_  mentor? When I was the one who–?"

"Now now Sid," Lord Death wagged his finger, "Charles' death in New Salem was a necessary evil; it's all in the past now. I think it would do Charles a service, actually, if you could try and mentor her daughter in his honor, wouldn't it?"

Sid could have growled at Lord Death, but he kept that anger locked inside his chest to bubble. It seemed like a cruel twist of fate to have Sid mentor Charles' daughter in the ways of the Soul Arts and Masquerade―and he didn't liked it one bit. He found himself gazing at the conference table, the chattering going on in the background slowly fading away, and the gazes of his friends and colleagues no longer having any relevance in his world.

The seconds soon turned into minutes, and minutes turned into–

* * *

 _Sid tried to catch his breath as he stared at the bloodied corpse of his best friend. Those blue-green glossy eyes stared back at him, judging him―_ cursing _him. The crackles of machine guns and rifles, and the thunderous booms of artillery, in the background seemed to have faded away amidst this grand, yet broken and rubble-filled hallway. God, Charles, why? Why? Why, dammit, why did this had to happen?!_

_A gasp from the witch, who had been standing in the doorway, and she ran off. Sid forced his eyes away from Charles' body and he sprinted after the bastard–_

* * *

Sid's eyes linked and he realized everyone was staring at him again. Taking deep breaths and rubbing his neck, Sid straightened out his jeans and tank top and pulled back his dreadlocks. He couldn't tell Lavinia about Charles' death now, could he?

He spotted Spirit standing up from his seat, concern in his eyes. "Yo, Sid. You know… you don't have to tell Charles' kid everything at once when she gets here. You can always tell her when you think it's the right time to do so."

"...Yeah, you're right." Sid nodded slowly, then he sat back down. "I should probably just focus on getting Lavinia up to speed, then when she's ready to go to EAT, I'll tell her then."

Spirit smiled. "That's the  _spirit_  man," he chuckled. "Heh, get it?"

" _Boo_!" Abigail frowned and shot Spirit a thumbs down. "You should consider a career in garbage disposal Spirit, because that's where your jokes belong!"

Mira, Frank, and Clara chuckled as Spirit fumed. "Yeah, well, I'm not the one with the, erm, err…!"

"Alright, that's enough!" Lord Death chuckled as he clapped his hands. "We still have a long day ahead of us people, so let us get through the rest of these files!"

Spirit and Abigail groaned and returned to work, but Sid kept his complaints to himself. At least there was plenty of time to mull his mentorship over while they continue selecting people from the Lottery System.

Still―will Lavinia find it in her heart to forgive?

...Yeah right. Forgiveness his  _ass_.


End file.
